( english version below)
La poesia alla fine dell’età della tecnica.
Ogni azione umana è quello che è in relazione allo scopo che essa ha. Se ci dovessero chiedere “cosa stai facendo” la nostra risposta è sempre un tentativo di esplicitare lo scopo di ciò che si sta realizzando. L'arte è il modo giusto per dire le cose sbagliate.
L'arte intesa come volontà di fare il mondo, non può sfuggire alla struttura della contraddizione e dell'errore. L'unico senso verso cui vale la pena che l'arte si incammini è quello di aversi dinanzi in quanto anima della follia dell'agire (in quanto tale), e imparare a pensarsi contro. Ciò non significa distruggersi, ma gettare lo sguardo più in là di tutte le necessarie ed inevitabili linee, fisiche e concettuali, che danno vita ai miei quadri e al mondo. Lì giace, da sempre e per sempre, la verità dell'essere uomo. In questo senso io dichiaro le mie opere come la rigorosa e controllata rappresentazione di una contraddittoria e affascinante follia.
1. Tra le fila di queste correnti dobbiamo collocare anche quella che dice alle altre: “Non siamo correnti ma il fiume stesso” e che nel perseguire tale scopo non fa che acuire la profondità del solco.
***
The
reason why I do (lines) – Artist Statement
The
meaning of an action determines the sense of human acts.
Between the thick folds of time, a voice whispers to the being sounds filled with space:
Art is the right way to say the wrong things.
If I try to unravel their meaning, then I begin to give thickness to these words that, strictly true, seem paradoxical. There are many currents in thought that have contributed to building the world and still make the idea of History alive, for it has never been tamed. Isn’t it true that we are constantly immersed in these currents and that we cling to their lines like shipwrecked people cling to life preservers for fear of drowning? Perhaps it’s because the feeling of belonging to a line of thought comforts us, offers us the work of men and women of the past as a barrier to use against the approaching future, makes us feel less lonely or – at least– a bit understood. I keep the analogy between the line and the life preserver as an anchor, a hold with which to reconstruct the thought process at the end. Here appears to us a stream of water, and currents appear in it like the flow of fluids, homogeneous but different from each other as the cold is different from the heat. Once considered their heterogeneity and their freedom of movement, those very currents begin to regiment themselves and the river, that is to build embankments to make their flow linear and evident, and their purpose fertile. This strengthening is a natural consequence of the tendency of each current to protect its own specificity and sense. 1 The evident result is the belief that the river has disappeared. Nevertheless, beside an apparent conflict, all the different currents keep sleeping unconsciously in the same old bed. They say to each other and to themselves: one day we will flow into the wide sea to which we belong. And here is the essence of ontology, from which we flee, clinging with hands and feet to our life preservers, but which is at the same time the one and only raison d’être of every doing, where by doing we mean a logical and structured sequence of actions capable of creating the world. It is legitimate for the intellect to wonder what remains of the will to do if one sacrifices anguished pain for the nothingness. Doesn’t a contradiction now appear deep down? The currents build embankments (a sense) to make effective their ability to push away, on the one hand, what they perceive as a constant threat: the present unpredictable appearance of water; on the other, their belief, almost a desire, to get lost in the sea. If I now recall the analogy between the line and the life preserver, there is no difficulty in seeing the equality between the line and that sense that protects the world and prevents it from immediately dissolving into the sea. It should be noted, however, that the construction and stability of such a sense remain possible if and only if we believe in the contradiction that our being is such only when we are convinced that it is constantly threatened by the possibility of nothingness and is committed to removing that threat. Then the sense, the line offering to us as a savior, is actually the one that first abandoned us on the open seas only to be able to hold out its hand later.
Then art, considered as the will to create the world, cannot escape the structure of contradiction and mistake. The only sense towards which it is worthwhile for art to set out is to look at itself as the soul of the madness of acting (as such), and to learn to think against oneself.
This does not mean destroying oneself, but looking beyond all the necessary and inevitable lines, physical and conceptual, that give life to my paintings and to the world. There lies, always and forever, the Truth of being a man.
In this sense I declare my works as rigorous and controlled representation of a contradictory and fascinating madness.
1Among the ranks of these currents we must also place the one that says to the others: "We are not currents but the river itself" and that in pursuing this aim only widens the depth of the furrow.
Quale è lo scopo del mio fare (linee) – Filosofia artistica
La poesia alla fine dell’età della tecnica.
Ogni azione umana è quello che è in relazione allo scopo che essa ha. Se ci dovessero chiedere “cosa stai facendo” la nostra risposta è sempre un tentativo di esplicitare lo scopo di ciò che si sta realizzando. L'arte è il modo giusto per dire le cose sbagliate.
L'arte intesa come volontà di fare il mondo, non può sfuggire alla struttura della contraddizione e dell'errore. L'unico senso verso cui vale la pena che l'arte si incammini è quello di aversi dinanzi in quanto anima della follia dell'agire (in quanto tale), e imparare a pensarsi contro. Ciò non significa distruggersi, ma gettare lo sguardo più in là di tutte le necessarie ed inevitabili linee, fisiche e concettuali, che danno vita ai miei quadri e al mondo. Lì giace, da sempre e per sempre, la verità dell'essere uomo. In questo senso io dichiaro le mie opere come la rigorosa e controllata rappresentazione di una contraddittoria e affascinante follia.
1. Tra le fila di queste correnti dobbiamo collocare anche quella che dice alle altre: “Non siamo correnti ma il fiume stesso” e che nel perseguire tale scopo non fa che acuire la profondità del solco.
***
The
reason why I do (lines) – Artist Statement
The
meaning of an action determines the sense of human acts.
Between the thick folds of time, a voice whispers to the being sounds filled with space:
Art is the right way to say the wrong things.
If I try to unravel their meaning, then I begin to give thickness to these words that, strictly true, seem paradoxical. There are many currents in thought that have contributed to building the world and still make the idea of History alive, for it has never been tamed. Isn’t it true that we are constantly immersed in these currents and that we cling to their lines like shipwrecked people cling to life preservers for fear of drowning? Perhaps it’s because the feeling of belonging to a line of thought comforts us, offers us the work of men and women of the past as a barrier to use against the approaching future, makes us feel less lonely or – at least– a bit understood. I keep the analogy between the line and the life preserver as an anchor, a hold with which to reconstruct the thought process at the end. Here appears to us a stream of water, and currents appear in it like the flow of fluids, homogeneous but different from each other as the cold is different from the heat. Once considered their heterogeneity and their freedom of movement, those very currents begin to regiment themselves and the river, that is to build embankments to make their flow linear and evident, and their purpose fertile. This strengthening is a natural consequence of the tendency of each current to protect its own specificity and sense. 1 The evident result is the belief that the river has disappeared. Nevertheless, beside an apparent conflict, all the different currents keep sleeping unconsciously in the same old bed. They say to each other and to themselves: one day we will flow into the wide sea to which we belong. And here is the essence of ontology, from which we flee, clinging with hands and feet to our life preservers, but which is at the same time the one and only raison d’être of every doing, where by doing we mean a logical and structured sequence of actions capable of creating the world. It is legitimate for the intellect to wonder what remains of the will to do if one sacrifices anguished pain for the nothingness. Doesn’t a contradiction now appear deep down? The currents build embankments (a sense) to make effective their ability to push away, on the one hand, what they perceive as a constant threat: the present unpredictable appearance of water; on the other, their belief, almost a desire, to get lost in the sea. If I now recall the analogy between the line and the life preserver, there is no difficulty in seeing the equality between the line and that sense that protects the world and prevents it from immediately dissolving into the sea. It should be noted, however, that the construction and stability of such a sense remain possible if and only if we believe in the contradiction that our being is such only when we are convinced that it is constantly threatened by the possibility of nothingness and is committed to removing that threat. Then the sense, the line offering to us as a savior, is actually the one that first abandoned us on the open seas only to be able to hold out its hand later.
Then art, considered as the will to create the world, cannot escape the structure of contradiction and mistake. The only sense towards which it is worthwhile for art to set out is to look at itself as the soul of the madness of acting (as such), and to learn to think against oneself.
This does not mean destroying oneself, but looking beyond all the necessary and inevitable lines, physical and conceptual, that give life to my paintings and to the world. There lies, always and forever, the Truth of being a man.
In this sense I declare my works as rigorous and controlled representation of a contradictory and fascinating madness.
1Among the ranks of these currents we must also place the one that says to the others: "We are not currents but the river itself" and that in pursuing this aim only widens the depth of the furrow.